The postmodern horcrux
by AninMukami
Summary: Tom was, according to his fans, a normal guy who happened to love writing, researching snakes and was into all things magical. He was sweet, charismatic and handsome. At least that's how the young aspiring Dark Lord presented himself to soul-suck people in his brand-new horcrux: an Instagram account! Is there anybody who could ever find out this time?
1. Chapter 1

-Flashback, 1998, Malfoy Manor-

Lord Voldemort's soul was already 2 horcruxes short of extinction, according to Harry Potter, who, at the time, wasn't aware he was one of the two left... since Voldemort couldn't hack into Harry's brain as easily to avoid his own destruction, he prepared a potion, which he served Bellatrix as breakfast.

She had been overwhelmed with joy the Dark Lord himself had brought her breakfast in bed, and in his young, formerly handsome appearance too!

Voldemort wasn't there to fool around with her, like she had thought: the milk was laced with a potion packed with psychedellic mushrooms muggles used to hallucinate.

He'd mutated them magically for the drinker to be able to see solutions into the future and alternative posibilities of the evolution of a situation, because tarot cards were too muggle and mainstream for the job.

Besides, he'd never seen a deck he liked enough to give the honor of his fate's prediction.

Bellatrix's eyes rolled backwards as she went into voodoo mode and predicted the arrival of the Internet: Voldemort should make a mobile horcrux,

-Lace electricity with the thread of soul you have within your own body, my Lord! The body will become a phoetus if destroyed, but your 18 year old self shall thrive digitally... like your 16 year old self in that diary, but you will have millions within your reach in a smartphone's worldwide web, the digital social network! !

Bellatrix proceeded to laugh like a maniac until she passed out. Voldemort gave Nagini the rest of the non-laced breakfast and headed to his own chambers within the Malfoy mansion to prepare a plan... he hadn't understood what Bellatrix meant by "world wide web" or "social digital network", but if he tortured the right people, he'd surely find out.

His appearance was already returning to that of a human snake. He enjoyed this transformation, as any vestige of his muggle self was too much of a disgrace to look at-

BAM

He'd been concentrated spiting about and had walked into Draco, who, upon realizing who he'd just bumped into, looked terrorized and white as a polar inferi. Since this was about the future, maybe Draco could have a slight idea, but he'd be careful not to reveal too much... the child was still upset his dad had been sent to Azkaban.

-Draco, do tell me something.

-Y-yes my L-l-lord? -Draco observed the big brown eyes become once again red, the nose fading into slits... he covered his head with his hands.

-No need to fear, boy. What is the world wide web?

Draco looked up from his hands, confused.

-A muggle thing, my Lord.

-What is it about?

-I don't know, m-my Lord! It's new, but I h-have only overheard about it in H-hogwarts.

-upon realization he might've put the entire school in danger, he added something as fast as he could- From... nobody I would be friends with! I don't remember who! Someone who took a muggle studies class!

This implied the Dark Lord would have to contaminate his soul with muggle filth... temporarily.

-Tell them to give me polyjuice potion, Draco. I'm going to London.

Draco wanted to vaporize away from this world. Had he just caused the newest unexplained freak "accident" in London? He just couldn't win, could he?

-May 1998, Bellatrix's chamber in Malfoy Manor-

 _My dear Bellatrix,_

 _In case my body gets obliterated, I shall leave the last part of my soul in the digital world;_

 _I shall take physical shape very fast when I find a soul or multiple souls to feed on._

 _Await my next return and pass on the muggle thing called Internet a username:_

 _TomMarvoloRiddle._

 _Trust you forever,_

 _Lord Voldemort_

The lucky post owl is confused, as both receptor and sender have passed away. Receptor's body was found, and sender's has disappeared or become a phoetus... Or has he?


	2. Life in the Internet

Tom had wandered the Internet through years and years, during which he dedicated himself to getting to know society more, because at some point in history, web connection sucked too much to be able to grab anyone's spirit.

Later on, people's access to the net got better, but there was not enough time spent there by most people who might want to pour their soul and data into it.

At least not enough to make him not look pixelated due to not having sucked enough souls.

People were also paranoid of a young male who looked pixelated no matter the definition of the video of "photo" he sent... he was thought to be a potential criminal looking for naïve teens and young adults to kidnap. This wasn't far from the truth, but parents and newspapers everywhere issued warnings that, in the early 2000's, were taken too seriously.

It needed to be a young person's soul, because stealing an adult's spirit was harder, and more boring. They talked about money and legal matters; Tom could not relate, as he neither heeded the law nor needed money to thrive.

Adults didn't talk about their insecurities as often as people under 30, either, and the 25+ years olds had a solid enough spirit to make it way too hard to consume... they also usually became suspicious of their "Internet friend" earlier due to how they had been raised.

He needed a strategy to connect to a different demographic group, but first, he needed more research on how to get them to open up their hearts without their parents's suspicion...

A few years and a few partial soul consumptions later, he had collected enough energy to be able to create a HD image of himself.

Young Voldemort had also created a very realistic natural park in the web that looked real, if not better than the actual world, along with a cozy hygge cabin... and a "camera" made from plugins he stole and adapted to simulate he lived in the "IRL" world outside the Internet.

He sometimes even forgot the snakes he'd created were all digital; they were his uncomplicated, non-fleeting friends, yet he still remained as a dormant fragment of an 18 year old's soul for some periods of time... and then, the smartphones Bellatrix had talked about back in the 90s happened.

Young people were absolutely addicted to these things and carried them at all times: their parents and their conciences didn't make them drop them; these things were actually taken to social and sporty spaces! Not to mention they felt attacked when teachers requested they set them aside in class. This was a new sphere of life Tom could start invading...

He created an Instagram account for himself, and after so long, he knew youth psychology, current times's sociology and marketing quite well, so his posts were extremely successful. He had several thousand followers and many of them messaged him regularly. Some seemed to have a crush on him, those poor unfortunate souls.

As this fragment of Voldemort's soul was one of the partially human ones, he rejoiced this popularity at times. He was often tempted to just keep on living the good life on the Internet, without needing a real body to feed and wash to be alive, and creating whatever he felt like creating with his imagination in the digital world.

He sometimes lied on his back on the grass that surrounded his hygge cabin, and watched his purple twilight sky fly over him thinking, "is life as an illusion in which you are unchallenged worth living, or does reality have a higher value, despite its challenges?"

Taking more amazing pictures as an alter ego, a "travel blogger who quit his job to travel" was fun; he liked the way people wrote he "has nice pictures; however, he is not a basic bitch/douche, he's intelligent and HAS DARK HAIR and loves snEkz! *insert snake emoji*". Although he cringed a lot whenever snek was said, so disrespectful.

However, there was a hole in his heart. Magical bigotry, the Dark Arts and ruling above people instead of being a community leader, was missing.

The Internet life could not give him that. So, he kept searching for souls to suck and be able to physically come out of computers and smartphones at will some time soon.

For that purpose, he needed a complete single soul; fortunately, most people poured more than half their souls into their social media accounts, so this had become almost way too easy...

That is not to say there were no inconsistencies that hindered the finding of a proper soul; there were too many that were as nutritious as popcorn, and most of them were muggles!

He needed someone with at least some degree of magic to start his "sliding out through of someone's webcam" project... he had to go to the weeaboo corner of the Internet, since the Wiccan, Tarot and other muggle magic sites's people were too hard to steal energy from.

Another hindrance was that it's not like you teleport on the Internet... you surf through information. Some of the information he came across gave even him, the Dark Lord, anxiety and confusion about his studies.

As he made his merry way to the weeaboo section, he encountered a good example if there was ever the case he needed to share his struggle:

People on social media who claimed to want to be called a "they" because they were neither man nor woman made no sense to him, as he was from a different time.

Some of them even asked the rest of the Intenet to put their preferred pronouns on their profile, as it would be embarrassing to call a "they" a "he" or something like that, he didn't quite understand the logic, so he dismissed it.

And then, these same people got offended when they got arrested for showing up topless to work.

They organized entire protests for the right for women (weren't they a "they" some hours ago, though?) to come naked to work without being told they were indecent, because they needed freedom of expression. But naked men were, without exception, perverts if they did that too, according to further information.

These protesters were countered with the argument that others were bothered by their public, out of context nudity, and in turn, the people who asked the "they" people to wear some clothes were called bigots for expressing themselves and their boundaries.

Such amateurs! -Tom ranted in silence- This is not how you practice intolerance! You need to be consistent with your cause!

Lord Voldemort facepalmed, ready to finish off humanity: men, women, and whatever this "they" group was; they were all equally inept. They all gave him a digital headache.

How could he find a decent "meal" among this sea of cheap, non-gluten-free popcorn?

 _AN: Remember, I am writing from Tom Riddle's point of view; I have nothing against non-binary people xD_


	3. Between two worlds

Lord Voldemort was on the Internet, looking for a remotely interesting victim, because there were too many girls trying to look more attractive by making their lips like a duck's beak and their waist fit in a printer, which made him think humans had probably begun the process of involution.

This theory was supported by the fact there was also a lot of men who uploaded said girls's duckface pictures and demanded money or "followers" in exchange.

If getting followers by hanging posters of nearly naked women with too much makeup on their faces and misspelled captions had been an easier way to assemble the Death Eaters, he would never have resorted to study the Dark Arts at Borgin and Burkes, nor would he have put so much effort into picking his goon-hunters.

Times were definitely different. He wondered where someone interesting enough would lurk... he could use up anyone, but he wanted someone interesting for a change, in order not to fill up with an equivalent of McFries.

Then, a curious account appeared: this person, Jägermeister_3r3n, took a lot of landscape pictures from a giant concrete wall that surrounded his town. His captions were quite moving, though Tom Riddle would not admit it even if Bellatrix had asked him what he saw in the 18 year old boy.

He wrote about wanting to go beyond his confinement, how the outside world was probably filled with wonder, but that he might be killed if he ever dared step outside the walls... Tom could relate. He seemed to work at some military organization, as he often photographed uniformed young adults with himself, also in uniform. He even looked like a tanned version of someone who could have been his brother.

Tom Riddle wrote to him without realizing he might be seeking out a connection with someone his current age; he even forgot to think of a strategy and just sent him a rather normal message:

-Hi Eren! How are you? That horse you ride looks so amazing! I haven't seen a real one in a while. Do you take care of it?

-Hi! Good, and you? Yes, his name is Jeanbo! I named him that to annoy a classmate some years ago.

-Good, too. I wonder what that classmate named his!

The silly talk became deeper over the months; although it strenghtened Tom's soul, Eren seemed to have more magic in him than he thought, so he didn't drain him all the way; that giant suit couldn't have been built without magic, for sure! He should trace him to find more magical people...

Also, the miniature city beneath him in that suit was too realistic to be photoshopped. Was he a film producer?

One day, Eren sounded nervous.

He shared a video of himself locked in a barrack with Tom:

-I get the feeling they are trying to kidnap me again. Two years ago, there was an attempt... I think I should watch my back, but I don't know who I need to watch out for!

-Eren, leave the nerves to your friend Armin. -Tom tried to reassure him- Nobody goes and just kidnaps someone for the third time without announcement!

Then there was a post of a broken tower captioned:

-The stench of death and defeat. This is something I've lived over and over again, and it will never cease to shock me.

That country probably had a bloody history; Eren was so dramatic. And then, next day, a final message:

-To you, 2000 years from now: I have been kidnapped by the armored and colossal titan; before I lose conciousness, phone signal or life, head south! The kidnappers are -

Tom even tried calling him, something he wouldn't have done for anyone else he'd met on the Internet before, but after some dude with identity issues answered and hung up on him, a machine answered his next call:

-This person's phone has been smashed, all of the owner's social media accounts have been deleted as well, because duh, he was kidnapped properly this time.

Well, shit. Back to searching through billions of anxiety-profiting clickbait articles and accounts till he found a proper "meal". But was that sadness he was feeling? No, definitely mere disappointment. He did not wonder if Eren would be ok, nor if he would hear from him again.

Draco Malfoy was trying to solve some recent kidnappings within the magical community in his second law enforcement job when he came across an article about giants kidnapping people in some place called Paradis Island. He wouldn't plan any vacation there, then.

The victim had been talking to people on social media, and had live-tweeted his kidnapping. What? Was he a wizard or not? First, the press claims the guy has control over giants and can transform into a strange creature, and then, he _live-tweets_? For fuck's sake! Draco wondered if he'd thought about shouting instead, and it occurred to him the tweets might give the police a lead on him, while spotting a giant kidnapping a person shouldn't be that hard...

He was intrigued; this might be unrelated to his current case at the Ministry, but he'd still like to look into the interesting situation for fun...

Twenty-seven-year-old Draco Malfoy was very entertained, until he saw something that wracked his nerves.

A familiar name appeared on the list of people the victim had been talking to often before the kidnapping. It couldn't be! No way! He refused!


End file.
